


Recovery

by CJS_DEPPendent



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Baby!Daisy, Dad!Coulson, F/M, History Teacher Phil Coulson, Personal Trainer Melinda May, will feature most AOS characters at some point
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-10
Updated: 2018-09-30
Packaged: 2019-05-20 14:51:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 19,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14896628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CJS_DEPPendent/pseuds/CJS_DEPPendent
Summary: Phil Coulson moves to a new neighbourhood with his daughter - his scars are still fresh and his recovery slow, but he's intent on moving forward. Melinda May gave up on recovery a long time ago - some things you just don't recover from.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written in response to a prompt on Philindaprompts over on Tumblr: "Phil Coulson is a divorced/widowed single father who joins a gym. Melinda May is his personal trainer."

Phillip J Coulson had had a pretty good life. He’d made it through high-school relatively unscathed – not a jock, but not shoved in lockers on a daily basis either – he’d gotten into his chosen university, majored in history, and gotten a job he loved as a history teacher. He’d met the girl of his dreams through a friend, and, after two years of dating, asked her to marry him which she’d accepted. A year of marriage led to a baby he adored, and a promotion his wife more than deserved.

He could barely even look at her cello now as it sat, untouched, in the garage of the home they’d shared.

“You ready?” Maria’s voice was gentle as she touched his shoulder, approaching him from behind as the moving crew returned from the truck for the boxes still piled in the garage – Audrey’s things.

All he could do was hang his head, his eyes falling to the sleeping baby in the pram next to him, a constant reminder that life went on.

His life had been as close to perfect as he could have asked for; the stuff dreams were made of, really. Until a drunk driver had run a stop sign as he and Audrey returned from her opening as the Portland Philharmonic’s first cellist.

That had been ten months ago. His recovery had been slow - having to re-learn how to perform the most basic tasks, even as Daisy smiled her first smile, rolled over, and learned to crawl. Struggling to hold his daughter’s hands as she learned to walk, struggling to hold her when she cried, struggling to be both a father and a mother.

Watching as the movers moved Audrey’s belongings to the second truck, ready to take them into storage, he felt the lump in his throat – a permanent fixture these days – tighten all over again.

“You know its time, Phil,” Maria’s smile was soft as she squeezed his upper arm, turning to the movers as they picked up the cello, “careful with that!”

“I know,” Phil nodded, a small attempt at a smile gracing his features as he turned to his friend, “thank you.”

Maria merely nodded – he knew she’d be there for anything he needed, he never need to ask or thank her.

“Shall we?” she asked, nodding to the red Corvette parked on the drive way, “we should get there before the movers.”

“Yea,” Phil agreed with a deep breath, taking one last look at the house he thought he’d grow old in, before slowly maneuvering Daisy’s pram away from the garage and towards his beloved car.

Audrey had teased him mercilessly for naming it, but the day he bought Lola had been one of the happiest of his life. He remembered working on model toy cars with his Dad before his death, remembered helping his Mom dust and care for them on breaks from university. He’d saved up ever since he could remember to own  _that_ car, and he was so proud of it - he didn’t care how much Audrey and his friends teased him.

Now, even the thought of riding in her hurt. He stood there as Maria helped him strap Daisy’s carrier to his chest before taking the keys from him and stepping into the driver’s seat, his left hand lying weakly on his knee as he sat beside her, his right hand protectively on Daisy’s back as they set off after the movers.

A new start. That’s what this was. His friends, his therapist, his co-workers had all encouraged him to start over, and he was trying. But, as he struggled to even bring his left hand up to Daisy’s head, he couldn’t help feel that somethings could not be left behind. 

* * *

 

“The new place looks great!” Maria beamed at him as she walked around his new apartment, three weeks after she’d helped him move in.

“Thanks,” he smiled as he, too, looked around. It really did, and for the first time in a long time, he felt a sense of accomplishment – this was  _his_ home. His and Daisy’s. And he’d gotten them here.

“Hey, rug rat!” Maria smiled as she bent to tweak Daisy’s cheek where she sat on the jigsaw play-mat Phil had placed by the sofa and TV.

Smiling brightly, Daisy clapped her hands, “’ria!”

“How’s she been?” Maria asked turning back to Phil, “settled in ok?”

He nodded, smiling down at his daughter as she turned to crawl off the mat and towards him, using his jeans to pull herself to a wobbly stand. “I don’t think she even noticed,” there was relief in his voice.

He never knew if Daisy understood things or not. He knew she’d felt her Mother’s absence, but at three months old, that had eased as he learned to sooth her, learned to understand when her cry meant she was hungry and when it meant she just wanted attention. He’d been worried the move would affect her, she was over a year old now, she was attached to things and people, so he’d worried. But so far, his little girl was as resilient as ever.

“That’s good!” Maria beamed, knowing how he’d worried about it, “so?” she changed topic as she took a seat on one of the bar stools at the kitchen island, “how are  _you_ settling in?”

Phil pulled up his shoulders in a shrug as Daisy fell back into a sitting position and crawled back to her toys, he honestly didn’t know. The apartment was finally done - after three weeks of frustrated return trips to IKEA for things he should have remembered the first time, and endless calls to set up all the services he needed – he’d be going back to work for the first time since the accident at the end of the summer, and he seemed to have finally worked out where the best shops and restaurants were in his new neighbourhood.

So, technically, not bad.

The second week in the new apartment had been the first time he’d slept through the night without waking up, reaching out for Audrey to find she wasn’t there. And while his therapist assured him that was progress, a small part of him was worried he was forgetting her. He did want to move on, but he didn’t want to just leave her behind entirely. It scared him that he might.

“Ok, I guess,” was his response, Maria was a great friend, and while he  _had_ worked through many issues over the past 10 months with her, some things he didn’t quite know how to put into words.

“You look good,” she smiled, the improvement clear over the past weeks as he adapted to his new environment and worked with a purpose, setting up his and Daisy’s new home.

“Thanks,” his smile was genuine; whatever issues he still had to work through – and there were many - he did feel better.

“And your hand seems to be better,” she nodded to where he rested his left hand on the island counter.

Looking at it, Phil flexed his fingers slowly, “yea, Bobbi thinks it’s the work I’ve been doing with the move, building up strength, actually using it—“

“Maybe you should carry on,” Maria offered, “working with it, I mean,” she clarified, “I know you can’t quite work on Lola yet,” she smiled sympathetically, “but maybe you could do something else? Maybe join a gym?”

“Can you imagine me trying to even pick up a weight?” he smiled skeptically, “Bobbi has mentioned I should think of starting some strength building, but I’m not sure—“

“Hey,” Maria interrupted him gently, “give it a try,” she encouraged, “I’m sure they can come up with something that will work for you.”

Sighing as his eyes fell on Daisy, he gave her a short nod, “maybe.”

* * *

 

It took him another two weeks, and a fair amount of encouragement from Bobbi, his physiotherapist, to actually walk into the gym across the street from his new favourite cafe.

“Can I help you,” a gruff voice came from behind him as he stood, looking around at the gym and the absurdly muscular men lifting weights off to one side.

“Oh, uh,” he turned to the voice, “hi. Uh—I’m, uh, thinking of signing up,” he wasn’t sure why it sounded like a question, but it did.

The man who stood behind him was quite a bit taller than him, dark skinned and dark eyes, one of which didn’t seem to quite move with the other – almost as if it were fake.

“Right,” he nodded, taking a seat at the desk behind him and motioning for Phil to have a seat too, “I’ll need some details.”

“Ok,” Phil nodded, taking the offered seat and his wallet from his back pocket.

Once all his details were entered into the computer and the forms signed, Nick – the owner – printed off the necessary paperwork as Phil texted Maria to check in on Daisy. Not thinking about it, he reached for the paperwork Nick handed him with his left hand, his grip failing him as the papers fell to the desk.

“You ok?” Nick asked as Phil put his phone away and quickly picked the stack of papers up, looking annoyed with himself.

“Yea, fine,” he nodded shuffling the papers together into a neat pile.

“Old injury?” Nick asked knowingly, nodding to where his left hand rested on the desk.

Sighing, Phil nodded, “still going through physio for it, they felt I should work on building some strength—“

Nick nodded his understanding, “have you thought of getting a personal trainer?” he asked.

Phil frowned, no he really hadn’t thought that far ahead at all.

“Might help you get started,” Nick clarified at his frown, “help you focus your work outs, avoid injuries—“

“I hadn’t really thought—“

“We’ve got a few PTs on staff, given your injury, I’d probably recommend May,” he gestured over his shoulder to a set of pictures, “she has some experience with injuries and building up through recovery,” he explained, “I could set you up with a free trial.”

Phil had no idea if this was even something he needed, Bobbi had given him a couple of exercises to do at the gym, to guide him through, but maybe Nick was right. Maybe someone who actually knew what they were doing would help.

“Uh, sure,” he agreed, what did he have to lose?

“Great,” looking through the calendar on his computer, Nick made his appointment, “how’s Saturday at 11?” he asked.

“Uh, yea,” it wasn’t as if he had anything else to do, and he was sure Maria would be happy to take Daisy for a couple of hours, “that should be fine.”

“Great,” Nick smiled standing, “that’s May over there,” he said, absentmindedly pointing towards the free weights, “just wait for her here and she’ll come find you.”

Glancing in the direction Nick indicated, Phil nodded as he spotted the only woman around the weights. She was working with a client who, honestly, looked two seconds away from collapsing from exhaustion, standing over him as he struggled through chest-presses. She looked relatively short, dark hair up in a ponytail, but even from a distance, he could tell she could probably break him in two - just a little intimidating.

* * *

 

As he walked back to his apartment, he forced himself to keep an open mind – he was starting over, trying to get back to normal, and if nothing else, it was just a free trial, if he hated it, he never had to go back.

It would be fine.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phil's first session at the gym - he's a little lost; and maybe a little intimidated.

On Saturday morning, Maria arrived half an hour earlier than agreed. She knew her friend well – too well, Phil thought sometimes – and knew he’d have managed to work himself into an anxious corner.

“You probably need to wear something other than pajamas,” she grinned at him as she took the coffee he made her, Daisy perched on her hip munching on a soggy cracker.

“Yea,” he spoke as he looked down at himself, eyes, as they always did, falling to his scared forearm. It wasn’t that he didn’t have any clothes to wear to the gym; he’d been going through physiotherapy for near a year, he had clothes. But Bobbi was _Bobbi_ , she had helped him through the first few months when he couldn’t even keep his fingers extended without a brace, she’d seen the scars – both from the accident and the surgeries after. Other than Maria and his doctors, no one else had seen his scars – even through the summer heat, he kept to long-sleeved shirts.

“Phil,” Maria spoke softly taking his left hand and smiling when he managed to squeeze hers gently, “this is just an extension of your therapy, just another step to healing,” she smiled gently, but her eyes brooking no argument, “you need to do this.”

He knew she was right, and he knew his therapist would probably make a point about him building things up as more complicated than they had to be whenever the prospect of moving a little further from the accident presented itself; whenever he felt he was moving on.

“Right,” he nodded through an exhale, smiling at Daisy’s cracker-covered face – he _did_ have to do this, for _her_. “Clothes, got it,” he dropped Maria’s hand as he left his own coffee mug on the counter and moved to his bedroom.

“He’s getting there,” he heard Maria whisper to Daisy as he disappeared into his room. It made him smile.

* * *

“Phillip Coulson?” he heard the voice behind him as he’d nervously surveyed the gym. The shorts he’d used for his weekly faculty basketball games with Hunter and Mack felt a little loose – he’d never been a particularly muscular guy, but the past year of barely eating, recovering from surgery after surgery, and trying to hold his life together had him wasting away enough that his friends had grown worried - and he felt so out of place.

“Uh, yea,” he said spinning to the voice, “Phil—” his voice trailed off just a bit as he came face to face with the woman he’d seen from a distance only days ago. Melinda May.

 _“Damn!”_ He heard the word echo somewhere in the back of his consciousness, and for some reason it was in Hunter’s voice, which was disconcerting at best. When he noted the raised eyebrow and almost-bored expression on the woman’s face, he mentally kicked himself – _great start,_ _Phil!_ She probably spent her days being ogled by every man in there, she would not be impressed by his reaction.

“Hi,” she replied coolly, extending a hand to shake his, “May.”

“Hi! Phil,” he replied, a smile on his face as he shook her hand, happy that he seemed to have managed to re-gain control of his eyes and force them to stay on her face - not that her face was any less impressive, to be honest. “Nick,” he motioned lamely at the desk beside him, “pointed you out.”

May didn’t respond, just turned to the gym and started her tour. “Since this is your trial session, I usually start with a tour,” she began, “then we can sit down and talk through your goals,” she began moving, and it took him a moment to catch on that he should follow. _Pathetic_. “Then I can set you up with some exercises to work through over the next hour, if you have time. Next time, if you choose to continue with training, we can get right to it.”

“Oh, yea,” he nodded, “sounds good.”

“Ok,” she nodded, “so the gym is over two floors,” she walked and talked, and he followed after her, feeling completely out of place. “Ground floor is your cardio machines,” she pointed over to the treadmills and spin bikes set up along a wall of floor-to-ceiling windows, “and free weights,” she gestured around them as they came to stand by the weights.

Phil nodded, two fingers of his left hand twitching almost involuntarily as he couldn’t help but wonder how _the hell_ he would _ever_ make any use of this particular area. As if reading his mind, May started moving back out to the central part of the ground floor, “during the first session I usually do a strength assessment,” she explained, “make sure you know your limits. No need for injuries.”

“Yes,” he nodded, “that’d be good.” He felt so lost.

“The rest of the flor is your focused workout equipment,” she pointed around her as she led him to the stairs, which they climbed in silence, coming to stand, side by side on the landing.

The first floor was smaller than the ground floor, an open balcony overlooking the cardio machines below and the wide windowed wall. It had more of a studio-feel to it, mats hanging on a rack to one side, smaller weights and medicine balls, and two punching bags hanging from the ceiling.

It also had floor-to-ceiling mirrors along the back wall and, as May explained the different equipment to him, he found his eyes falling to her reflection. She was a good half-a-foot shorter than him, and while she _was_ gorgeous, the tight tank top and work-out leggings made it clear that despite her short stature, she was extremely fit and, as he’d previously assessed, could break him in two if she wanted to. Phil actually felt a little intimidated; this was going _great_.

He was glad she hadn’t seemed to notice him watching her in the mirror as she turned back to him – he hadn’t heard a word she said.

“So,” she motioned for him to follow her back downstairs, leading him to the two sofas behind the main desk, “what are you hoping to get from the gym?” May asked, a notebook and pen in her hand.

“Well,” Phil hesitated as he sat across from her, looking down to his left hand as he forced himself to raise it to his lap, palm up, his fingers, as they usually were, curled into a half fist. He saw May’s eyes drift from his face to his hand, and was relieved when the only reaction she had was a brief flash of sympathy before looking back up to him, the cold exterior a little less obvious.

“My physio wanted me to start working on building up strength,” he explained.

“How long have you been having physiotherapy?” May asked, eyes thankfully on his face, not his hand.

“Just under a year,” he replied.

“Radial nerve?” she then asked, and he looked up, surprised at her accurate assessment.

“Yes,” he confirmed with a nod, his struggle to extend his fingers confirming it.

“May I ask what happened?” her voice was gentler than he’d expected, and somehow it helped him relax.

“Car accident,” he explained, “the car totaled. It got crushed between the window frame and the road,” he shrugged, “fractured in three places, severed radial nerve.”

“I’m sorry,” she leaned forward, “may I?” she gestured to his hand.

Nodding, only a little hesitation in his movement, Phil held his hand out towards her.

“Uh,” he spoke as she turned his hand in hers, feeling the different muscle groups, “Nick said you had some experience dealing with injuries—”

May nodded, “I had some medic training in the Air Force,” she explained. He thought he picked up the same clipped tone he used when talking about the accident – a simple but effective way to keep people from asking questions.

Phil nodded, if she didn’t want questions, he wouldn’t ask.

“Ok,” she nodded, gently replacing his hand on his lap, “I think we can come up with a program,” she scribbled a few words on her notebook, “if there are specific things your physiotherapist wants you to work on, we can incorporate those,” she continued speaking as she wrote, “and if there are any other things you want to work on,” she looked up, “even if only fitness in general, we can do that too.”

“That sounds good,” Phil smiled, more at ease than he’d been since stepping foot in the gym, “to be honest, I haven’t really been active this past year. I used to be quite active—nothing serious, just some basketball once a week, went to some martial arts classes with a friend —”

“We can start slow,” she reassured him, “build your fitness back up.”

“Ok,” he agreed, a little more relaxed and reassured by her approach to his injury. 

“So do you want to sign up for more sessions?” she asked, “we have a few packages on offer—” he could tell she was boring herself as she went into the different offers, prices, and conditions her employers had no doubt instructed her to go through.

* * *

“So?” Maria asked from where she lounged on his couch, Daisy playing on the floor beside her, “how’d it go?”

“Good,” his smile was genuine, and she smiled back, “I signed up.”

“That’s great!” she beamed standing from the sofa, “wow, you smell, though—”

Phil smiled a little sheepishly as he pulled his soaked t-shirt away from his chest only for it to cling back to his skin on release, “yea, May wanted to test my fitness level, I—” he looked up a little ruefully, “not what it used to be. This” he gestured to his sweaty shirt and tousled hair, “is the result of a 20 minute run.”

“Hey, that’s not bad for someone who hasn’t exercised as long as you have,” Maria smiled, stepping away from him, “now go shower! I’ll order lunch.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” Phil smirked, leaning down to press a kiss to Daisy’s head before disappearing into his bedroom for a much needed shower.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phillip Coulson is kind of cute, and Melinda is having none of it.

Maria was happy to find that she did not need to push Phil to attend his first scheduled session at the gym the following week. Nor the one after that. He was still self-conscious,  - she’d had to remind him of how far he’d come and what amazing progress he’d made more than once when he’d returned from the gym drenched in sweat and disheartened at being unable to do even basic things he could have done before the accident – but he was open to pushing himself, and she was grateful Bobbi had suggested he get a PT.

And the truth was, that it _was_ making a difference. His hand continued to gradually improve, but, more importantly as far as Maria was concerned, _he_ was improving – he stood a little taller, smiled a bit more, and just seemed that bit more relaxed.

It was just what he needed.

* * *

“You should come in more often,” May suggested. She was wearing her regular work-out  clothes, her pony-tail swung from side to side behind her head, and she had that-almost smile that he had made it his personal mission to convert to a _real_ smile.

“You think I need more sessions?” he sounded a little dismayed – he thought he’d been doing well.

“No,” she clarified – still only an almost-smile. “But you seem to be keen to improve your fitness. You should work in more cardio, there’s no point wasting session time for that - you don’t need me to stand there while you run or spin - but it would help with the goals you set.”

When he continued to look lost – and she’d be lying if he wasn’t a _little_ cute when he did – May offered, “I can set you out some exercises to do, sort of like a program. When you have free time, come in and work through it. When we have a session, we’ll focus on your rehab and strength building.” She nodded in encouragement.

Over the past few weeks, Phil had found it was difficult to say no to May. Not because she was forceful or insistent, not even because she was intimidating – which she _was_ – but because he could tell that she 100% had his best interest in mind with every suggestion. He knew it was her job, but it felt good to have someone pushing him to do better, not to get back to where he was before the accident, but to get somewhere new; somewhere better.

“Ok, I can give it a try,” he smiled with a nod, and May promised to e-mail him over the program in the next couple of days.

* * *

“Didn’t know you had a session today,” Maria spoke as she waited for him to leave his bedroom, an eye on Daisy as she slept on the sofa covered by a fluffy yellow blanket.

“I don’t,” he replied as he opened the door. It had been a month since he’d first started at the gym, and he was proud to find that he was filling his t-shirts out a little bit more. When Maria looked confused as to why she was babysitting, he clarified, “May wants me to go in when I can – even if we don’t have a session. I mentioned wanting to work on my general fitness, and she thinks this will help.”

“That sounds like a great idea,” Maria smiled – she’d have to thank this May sometime. “How long do I have to make dinner?”

“You don’t have to make dinner,” he clarified, “I’ll just be an hour, Daisy should sleep through it, don’t worry about it, I’ll sort out something when I get back.”

“I’m cooking,” Maria rolled her eyes at him with an amused smile, “gotta keep you fed if you’re going all body-builder on me. Plus, I know you, Phil Coulson,” she pointed a finger at him, “when you come home tired and sweaty, you’re going to shower, feed Daisy and then crash as soon as she’s asleep. Someone has to make sure you eat.”

He couldn’t argue with that – he did _try_ to hold it all together, but more often than not, Daisy and everything else in their lives took priority. He _was_ guilty of going without dinner far too often.

“Fine,” he gave her shoulders a quick squeeze in thank you, “but nothing too elaborate,” he pointed a finger at her, “let us not forget the Beef Wellington debacle of two weeks ago.”

“It’s your new oven,” she countered, “it’s too hot.”

“Takes after me,” he grinned, and she couldn’t help but roll her eyes – he was such a dork, but he was her best friend, and she loved him anyway.

“Go,” she shook her head as he left, smiling softly at how far he had come.

* * *

“Taking my advice?” He heard her voice as he stood on the treadmill, untangling his earphones.

“Yea,” he looked a little embarrassed at the folded papers beside his water bottle – the print-out of the program she had sent him.

May’s stomach did that thing it sometimes did when he looked embarrassed or lost, and she mentally scowled at it. Most of her clients were women, but when she occasionally did get assigned a man, she found that most had chosen here not for her skills, but to try their luck getting in her pants - needless to say, none had succeeded, and to Nick’s eternal despair, a few had ended up a little bruised. Phil Coulson seemed different, though. When she’d first met him, she thought he’d be another idiot – she’d seen how he looked at her when she introduced herself, and she knew perfectly well he’d been checking her out in the mirror as they toured the first floor.

As they’d started working together, however, she’d been pleasantly surprised. He was respectful, and sweet, and evidently a massive dork if his Captain America t-shirt collection was anything to go by. He always motioned for her to climb the stairs ahead of him – and never once did she feel his eyes on her ass; he once offered to help her with clearing up the weights some other client had left lying around – unsuccessfully, but still, it had been sweet; and he always looked her in the eye, no matter how tight or low-cut a top she might be wearing.

None of this, however, gave her stomach license to flip the way it did when he blushed a little in embarrassment, and she was having none of it.

“If you need it printed out, there’s no shame in that,” she reassured as he finally managed to untangle his earphones and turned to her with a smile.

“Hopefully not for long.” The lines that were just visible at the corners of his eyes crinkled a little, and May’s internal scowl deepened – yes, he was cute, but she was surrounded by extremely good looking men on a daily basis, some of whom viewed t-shirts as entirely optional, this reaction to the dorkiest man she’d ever encountered was unacceptable.

“I’ll leave you to it, then,” she nodded encouragingly as he turned back to the treadmill and set it up as she’d taught him, “I’ll be around if you need anything.”

As he nodded and smiled in thanks, she could feel the almost-smile on her face, and didn’t quite know what to do with it.

* * *

“Come on, you know you would!” Coulson overheard the 6ft tall, spray-tanned guy who’d been deadlifting an absurd amount of weight stage-whisper to the shorter, paler but equally muscular guy who was hanging from the ceiling bar half-way between pullups.

“She’d probably murder you halfway through,” Pullups replied with a smirk, lifting himself back up over the bar with a groan.

“But what a way to go,” Spray-tan grinned, and as Phil turned to them – a difficult thing to do as he lay on his back, halfway through a chest-press – unconsciously focusing on their conversation despite the earbud in his left ear, he saw Pullups jump down from where he’d been hanging, rolling his shoulders as he followed Spray-tan’s eyes and looked May up and down where she stood by the desk chatting to Nick.

“Didn’t know you had a thing for the Black Widow types,” Pullups grinned, jokingly punching Spray-tan’s shoulder as he moved around him to grab some weights.

“I’d die happy if I got to die in _her_ bed,” Spray-tan continued, eyes essentially permanently glued to May’s figure.

“Ok, yea,” Pullups relented coming to stand beside his comrade-in-stupidity once more, nodding in approval of what he saw, “I would. Have you _seen_ her stretch?”

“Hot and flexible,” Spray-tan grinned, and something about the way his eyes travelled the length of May’s body for the seventh time since Phil had started paying attention made his stomach churn. 

Deliberately dropping the weight he’d been holding up with his right arm, allowing it to fall to the floor with the expected loud ‘bang’, Phil sat up and looked at the two idiots as sheepishly as he could, as they spun from ogling May to see what the noise was about. “Sorry, guys. Too much weight, apparently. Guess I should lower my expectations.” His self-deprecating smile as he bent to pick up the weight and return it to its rack was in direct contrast to the warning in his otherwise calm blue eyes – but the two idiots seemed to get the message as they rolled their eyes at each other, but shut up and went their separate ways.

* * *

“Dropping 10 pound weights?” May asked with what he almost thought might be a knowing smirk as he toweled his sweaty hair, passing the main desk on his way out.

“Sweaty hands,” he smiled sheepishly, “slipped,” he shrugged, and she would almost buy his act if she hadn’t seen him frowning, upside down from where he lay on the bench, at the two idiots who were less-than-subtle in their running commentary of whether or not they would fuck her.

“Right,” she nodded, and it was still only an almost-smile, but he was _sure_ it was there, “lucky it didn’t ‘ _slip_ ’ onto anyone’shead.” She was definitely onto him.

“Yea, very lucky,” he nodded, his eyes darting around her face but never quite meeting hers - he had a terrible poker face, “guess I should work on my aim.”

“Phil,” she cut in, almost taking a step forward, “I can handle those idiots, you don’t need to worry—”

“I know you can,” he shrugged, and for the first time, she saw beyond the dorky, lost, awkward exterior – his jaw was tense, his eyes set and he looked taller than she’d realised he was, “but I have a daughter, and even if I didn’t, that kind of behavior is not ok. Anywhere.”

“Well, that we agree on,” she nodded, and this time he was 99% sure she actually, briefly, smiled. “But maybe avoid risking injuries, you’re doing really well and they aren’t worth a setback.” 

Nodding, Phil smiled a little sheepishly again, “anyway, see you tomorrow?”

“Ten o’clock, don’t be late!” she watched as he gave her another smile and left – she’d been right: Phil Coulson was _definitely_ different. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things take a turn for the angsty.

“Does your gym do one day passes?” Maria asked him one day over dinner as Daisy squished peas between her fingers and giggled.

“Actually, yea,” Phil nodded the bite he’d been chewing and took a quick sip of water, “I got an e-mail about a week ago, they’re having an open day kind of thing in a few days.”

“I was thinking of checking it out,” Maria smiled after her own sip of water as Phil reached over to take the peas from Daisy and hand her a carrot instead, “I might even join,” she added when he didn’t immediately answer, “also need to meet your May and give her a fist-bump for making this,” she gestured to his generally improved physique, “happen.”

Phil ignored the knot in his stomach when she said ‘your May’ – she wasn’t his, she was just his trainer. That was it. The fact that he was going into the gym more and more often had nothing to do with the way his chest fluttered when she waved across the gym at him. Nothing. At all.

He felt like inviting Maria to join him could be bad. Not bad, bad. But _bad_ in that she’s-like-my-nosy-baby-sister-who-will-have- _opinions_ sense of the word. And he wasn’t ready for her opinions – he wasn’t even sure what _his_ opinions were. He hadn’t even gotten up the courage to discuss what he was feeling with Dr. Johnson, his therapist.

And when he did, he was sure she’d explain that he’d kept it to himself this long because he was afraid of what it might mean. Like moving house and working to get over his injury, this could be another step in ‘moving on’ – and every time the thought crossed his mind, Audrey’s face popped into his consciousness, smiling reassuringly at him, and he was hit with an overwhelming sense of guilt.

But at the same time, he wasn’t stupid. He recognized the familiar flutter in his stomach and the sweatiness of his palms for what it was – attraction. He was attracted to May, and he wasn’t ready for anyone else to know it.

“So?” Maria’s voice interrupted his thoughts, Daisy now happily munching on a steamed carrot, her face covered in orange and remnants of mashed peas.

“Sure,” he couldn’t really say anything else; if he said no, she’d get suspicious that he was hiding something. And he was.

* * *

“Phil,” Nick nodded at him as he, Maria in tow, passed by the main desk. He could feel the fingers of his left hand fidgeting in nervousness, and hoped Maria didn’t notice. He hadn’t spotted May yet – so far so good.

“This place is great,” Maria commented coming to stand beside him as he put his bag in one of the lockers off to the side. Phil nodded, taking her bag from her and shoving it in with his. “Which one is May?” she then asked looking around, and as if on cue, the other woman’s voice came from his other side.

“Hey,” she may not smile at him, but he had convinced himself that he could hear a smile in her voice, and he very nearly closed his eyes as he took a calming breath. Maria meeting May. He was doomed.

“Hi,” he smiled turning to her, his left hand tapping against his thigh where he hoped neither woman would notice.

“You must be May,” Maria moved forward, hand extended from Phil’s other side.

May turned to Maria as if she’d only just noticed her there, “yes,” she nodded, eyes turning to Phil for clarification.

“Oh, yea,” he kicked back into gear, “Maria Hill, May. May, Maria,” he introduced the two.

Two things happened in that moment and, being the oblivious dork he was, Phil picked up on neither. On one side of him, Maria hid a smirk as her eyes jumped from the suddenly closed off woman in front of her to her friend who couldn’t bluff to save his life and was busy trying to avoid eye contact with either of them. On the other side, May’s eyes narrowed imperceptibly, her almost-smile gone, replaced with her patented non-expression as she shook Maria’s hand and let go, a brief glance between Phil and Maria before taking a step back.

“I got the e-mail about the open day,” he rambled, still not looking directly at either of them, “Maria thought she’d give it a try.”

May nodded before looking over both their shoulders to the main desk, “I’ll leave you to it, then,” and walked off towards Nick.

“So,” Maria tried really hard not to prolong the word, knowing how easy it would be to push Phil into full-on defensive denial mode if she so much as inferred that there might be something between him and May, “that’s May.”

Phil nodded, a small frown creasing his brow as he looked after the woman in question as she walked away from them, “yea. Shall we?” he then asked, turning back to Maria and gesturing over to the treadmills.

* * *

A couple of days later, Phil was back in the gym, sweating heavily as he struggled through the bicep-curls May had been working on with him as she stood a few feet to his left, arms crossed as she counted.

“Are you sure that was eight?” he asked through gritted teeth as he struggled to continue.

“Yes,” was her short reply. Normally, she’d joke about him trying to cut corners, but all session today, she’d been matter-of-fact and to the point. He hadn’t even seen her almost-smile at all. Something was up, and he didn’t know what it was, so he was struggling to fix it.

“Fine,” he ground out good-naturedly as he fought to bring the weight up and she counted up to nine, then ten.

“Stretches, then we’re done,” she spoke as he put the weight down and reached for his bottle of water, already turning to walk towards the mats.

Hanging his head for a brief moment, capping his bottle, Phil turned and jogged to catch up to her. May was intimidating on the best of days – he definitely didn’t want to upset her when she was already in a bad mood.

“On the floor,” she instructed gesturing to the mat at her feet, “right leg up.”

He followed her instructions, trying to catch her eye as she took his foot and ankle and pushed forward a little, stretching his hamstrings. Hissing against the pressure, Phil frowned as she instructed him to lift the other leg and repeated the motion without meeting his eye. Something was up – they usually chatted amiably through the stretches, usually about what absurdly unhealthy snack Phil had planned for when he got home.

“You ok?” he braved as she went back to his right leg, stretching his hamstring again before bending his knee and pushing forward until it touched his chest and he let out a soft groan at the stretch.

“Fine,” she replied, slowly releasing his right leg and standing back up to take his left again.

“You sure?” he asked gently as she bent his left knee and crouched again, bringing it towards his chest.

“Yes,” she replied, but the bite wasn’t quite there this time, and Phil was suddenly acutely aware of her crouching almost between his legs, her left knee holding his right leg straight against the floor as she used her body weight to push his left leg against his chest. His eyes darted from where her knee touched his right thigh to where her hands pushed against his shin and knee, to her face.

And time froze as their eyes met – for the first time that day, he noted. She wasn’t close enough for him to even consider kissing her, but she was close enough to make his breathing stop. He supposed this was what people meant when they spoke of ‘having a moment’ – except _he_ was having a moment, she was just doing her job. He wasn’t Spray-tan or Pullups, he refused to be another of the jerks coming onto her at work, she deserved better than his idiot-self trying to make a move on her while she did her job.

After another beat, he seemed to snap out of it, moving enough to roll from under her, May standing from her position as he stood back up.

“Uh,” he began intelligently, noting that for once his eyes weren’t the only ones darting all over the place, “see you next session?”

“Yea,” she replied quickly, crossing her arms over her chest, “same time,” with a final nod, she turned and made her way back downstairs, leaving him staring after her with sweaty palms and a distinctly uncomfortable feeling somewhere in the pit of his stomach.

He was fairly certain she hated him now, and he couldn’t blame her. Hanging his head and letting his hand run over the back of his hair, Phil closed his eyes, shaking his head against his own stupidity.

_Damn it!_

* * *

Three days later, Maria had taken Daisy in the morning, giving Phil the morning to do some much needed shopping, run a few errands and go to the gym.

“Sorry I’m late,” Phil breathed, kicking himself for letting time get away from him when he was sure he was already on May’s bad books.

“No problem,” she reassured hopping off where she’d been perched on Nick’s desk and waiting for him to stuff his bag into his locker. “I think you’re ringing,” she commented, pointing towards the locker he was trying to force closed at the sound of his vibrating phone.

“Oh, uh,” he looked over at her apologetically.

“Take it,” she nodded, “I’ll set up.”

Fishing his phone out of his bag, Phil couldn’t help but watch as she walked away from him. He didn’t want to be _that_ guy, but a small part of him 100% was _that_ guy where May was concerned. He hated it, but she was gorgeous.

“Maria,” he answered quickly, “everything ok?”

* * *

Turning back from where she was setting up the weights for Phil’s session, May watched as his expression went from mild concern to full on panic, and in a second she dropped what she was doing and reached him just as he switched off his phone and stared blankly at it.

“You ok?” she asked, her hand touching his upper arm to get his attention.

“I—” he turned up, almost surprised to find her there. “It’s Daisy—my daughter, uh—”

“Hey, breathe,” May urged as she gently pushed him back until he sat on one of the sofas by the lockers, his phone still clutched in his hand.

“She’s in the hospital,” he tried to explain as May knelt in front of him, her hand on his shoulder trying to calm him. “She’s got a temperature—a fever. And a cough. Maria was worried, so she took her to the ER, I— I need to catch a bus,” he tried to get the bus schedule up on his phone, but his fingers weren’t cooperating. “Or a taxi,” he interrupted his own train of thought, “there’s an ATM downstairs, I can—”

“Hey, Phil,” May interrupted his incoherent rambling, “its ok,” she nodded reassuringly, “I can drive you.”

“What?” he asked, his eyes widening in surprise. “No,” he shook his head, “you don’t have to, I—”

“Come on,” she urged as she stood, helping him up from the sofa, not brooking any argument.

“I can catch a bus, really—” he continued as she grabbed his bag from his locker where he nearly forgot it and urged him towards the door.

“That’ll take forever,” she explained as she led him to her waiting Wrangler, tossing his bag into the back and opening the door for him before he could argue any further. “Don’t worry about it,” she smiled at him as she started the engine and started off towards the ER.

If he hadn’t been so worried about Daisy, he would have noticed her smile been secretly proud of himself for achieving his goal. But he was panicking on the inside – and on the outside, really – and he couldn’t focus on anything but what might be going on with his baby.

So they drove in silence, the 15 minute drive cut miraculously short by May’s skillful – if slightly terrifying – driving.

“Thank you so much,” he breathed as they came to a stop outside the ER doors, and he spotted Maria standing there, phone in hand waiting for him.

“Go,” she nodded towards the doors. When he didn’t move, simply sat there staring out at Maria, she jumped out and jogged to his side of the car, opening the door, “Phil, it’ll be ok,” she knew genuine fear when she saw it, and something about this situation was making Phil panic and freeze, “whatever is going on, she’s in the right place,” she encouraged gently, “just breathe.”

“Phil,” Maria’s voice joined May’s and she took a step back, “hey, she’s ok, the nurses are looking after her, she’s ok.”

“Why,” he shook his head, “why aren’t you with her?”

Maria sighed and placed a comforting hand on her friend’s shoulder. She knew what this was. The last time he’d been to the ER, Audrey had been pronounced dead on arrival and he’d been rushed to surgery to try to save his arm. She was no phycologist, but she was fairly certain he was having a panic attack as the memories of that night and the worry about Daisy overwhelmed him.

“She fell asleep, the nurse is with her, she’s had some medicine for her breathing, and she’s nice and settled now,” she smiled reassuringly, squeezing his shoulder.

Nodding, a little unfocused, Phil slowly got out of the car, his eyes finding May as she stood by the open door, giving them space. “Thank you so much,” he repeated, his eyes focusing long enough to meet hers, “I don’t think I would have—”

“Not a problem,” May reassured him with a half-smile again, “go check on Daisy.”

With another grateful nod, Phil followed after Maria, and May watched them go for a few seconds before closing Phil’s door and walking back around to the driver’s side. As she started off back towards the gym, she stopped at a pedestrian crossing to allow a mother and two children to cross. One child was skipping ahead, the other held onto the mom’s hand, and as the woman smiled at her in thanks, May felt her knuckles tighten against the steering wheel.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> May is distant. Phil is awkward. Maria helps.
> 
> I'm sorry about the long wait - I was on holiday for a bit, and the lack of Clark/Coulson news is frustrating and my motivation to write is taking a hit.
> 
> Thank you to all of you who've reached out on here or on Tumblr asking for updates or letting me know you're enjoying this fic! You have no idea how encouraging that is! Thank you so much!

Luckily Daisy had been ok. She’d been a little snuffly for a couple of days and, the doctors had explained as Phil held her to him as if she might disappear if he let go, the infection had gone to her chest. An overnight stay in the hospital, an inhaler and a week of antibiotics, and she would be fine.

Phil had never felt more relieved than when, two days after their trip to the hospital, she’d started wanting to toddle around again, crawling to her toys and interacting like she normally would. Daisy was everything to him, and the thought that something might happen to her had terrified him like nothing before.

“Phil?” It was only a week later that Maria finally found the courage to broach the topic she’d been trying to bring up softly since the day she’d accompanied Phil to the gym.

“Hm?” he asked from where he sat on his arm chair, a coffee mug steaming beside him as Maria sipped on her tea. Hunter, Elena and Mack had been over for dinner, a sort of housewarming dinner as Phil started getting ready to return to work to prep his classes for the upcoming year. The three were his coworkers and some of his closest friends - the Geography teacher, Spanish teacher and Principal of his school, respectively.

Phil had seen them a few times since the accident, but with his recovery, the move, and his general withdrawal from all things social, it had been a couple of months since he’d last spent any time with them, and he was surprised to realize how much he’d actually missed it.

He’d been worried that, in their attempts to help him heal and move forward, they might press him to move on – he’d come to realize that sometimes people said the wrong thing with the best of intentions. But aside from an awkward almost-question from Hunter – of _course_ it was Hunter – about whether he might be seeing anyone which Elena quickly shut down with a kick to the shin under the table, the evening had gone incredibly well, and he was thankful Maria had suggested it.

“Can I ask you something?” Maria’s voice was tentative, and Phil felt himself start to tense up. ‘Can I ask you something’ was almost as bad as ‘we need to talk’, and he’d never done well with either opener.

“Uh, sure,” he replied, his apprehension evident in his tone.

“You don’t need to answer, and please don’t think I’m pressing you into anything,” she sighed, sitting forward, “if Elena were here she’d probably kick _me_ in the shin—” she trailed off, almost shaking her head as she refocused – she wanted to help Phil, and if that meant wading into uncomfortable territory, then so be it. “Is there something going on with May?”

Phil nearly choked on the coffee he’d risked sipping as she spoke. He had definitely not expected Maria to ask that, and he didn’t quite know how to react.

He felt trapped. Not answering was, surely, an answer in itself. Answering acknowledged the question as valid – acknowledged that the possibility even existed. To be fair to Maria, he’d been wrestling with the same question himself since their moment during stretches almost two weeks ago, and Maria knew him well enough to have picked up on something.

He didn’t know, was the honest answer. Didn’t know if there was ‘something’ going on; didn’t know if there was even anything _to_ go on. He didn’t know if it was something she’d even want; didn’t know if it was something _he_ wanted.

His silence must have communicated more than he expected, because Maria started speaking again, “forget it,” she smiled softly, putting her own mug down on the coffee table and holding her hands up, “forget I mentioned it. It just felt like—” she shook her head, “never mind.” She smiled reassuringly, and he felt himself physically relax.

After a beat, she stood to take her empty mug to the kitchen, “its getting late, I should be going any way.”

It took Phil until she’d rinsed, dried and put the mug back in its cupboard to speak, and when he did, it was so soft Maria wasn’t sure she’d heard him. “I don’t know.” He sounded so lost, and Maria’s heart broke a little for her friend.

Walking over to him and crouching by his chair, Maria placed a reassuring hand on his knee, “that’s ok,” she smiled softly. “I definitely thought there was some, I don’t know—” she’d been thinking about it, but she couldn’t quite come up with the right word, “—some tension?”

Hanging his head, Phil avoided looking at her, “I don’t know, ‘Ria. I—Maybe. But, it doesn’t matter anyway, I—”

“Hey,” Maria interrupted him before he rambled his way into a panic, “its ok,” she reassured him again. “For what it’s worth, I felt it from _both_ of you. But there’s no rush, ok? No pressure, you know that.” He smiled gratefully at her, and she could see the tears threatening to form in his eyes, “you take your time.”

Phil’s hand squeezed hers where it rested on his knee, “thanks,” and he was genuinely grateful – for her help, her understanding, and for the fact that she didn’t use the painful cliché of ‘it’s what Audrey would have wanted’ which was a thought he already found himself struggling with. Because: was it? 

* * *

Over the next couple of weeks, he resumed his regular visits to the gym, but with Maria’s question and his own jumbled thoughts constantly swimming through his mind, he found himself distracted more often than not.

It didn’t help that, the more he considered Maria’s question, the more acutely he realized that he _did_ feel something for his personal trainer. It was inappropriate, and stupid, and he hated that he was _that guy_ – but he did have feelings for her. And if everything had gone back to normal after she’d offered to drive him to the hospital, he could probably have brushed those feelings aside, but things were definitely not back to normal.

Sure, they still worked well together, he was still improving, and she was still encouraging him to keep up the good work. But there were far too many loaded silences between them, too many instances of one of them turning away from the other just as they almost stumbled into another moment; too much tension for him to ignore.

And he wished he could ignore it – judging by how often she turned away from him, how often she crossed her arms in front of her and took a step back from him, he was certain she’d realized his feelings and did _not_ appreciate them. Why would she? She spent her days being gawked at by men who saw her as nothing but a piece of meat, she would not appreciate him becoming just another idiot with a crush.

“I’m going on holiday next week,” she spoke as they descended the stairs and came to stand in front of the lockers after their most recent session.

“Oh, ok, I’ll book in for when you’re back,” he replied with a shrug – he’d somehow convicted himself that appearing indifferent would help. It did not.

“And you’ll keep coming in in the meantime,” she said and her tone brooked no argument, “you’re too close to your goals to go a week without working on them.”

Phil smiled a little before he could help it and nodded, “of course.”

“Ok,” May nodded, her lips pressed together as she continued to stand there, arms crossed in front of her, neither moving and neither sure why.

“I’ll—uh,” he raised a hand lamely between them, halfway to pointing at his locker, “I’ll see you in a week, then.”

“Yea,” she nodded again, but before she could take a step back, he’d reached for his locker just to the side of her and found himself far too close to her, the scent of her flooding his senses as he kicked himself for being so stupid – he’d been so careful to keep his distance until he got over whatever stupid crush he’d developed.

Again neither moved. For a beat, they just stood there, not quite looking at each other but both acutely aware of the tension between them at the proximity.

It was May who finally broke free of the spell, taking a step back with another nod and a barely-there, “see you,” before turning and heading towards the back office, leaving Phil standing there, awkwardly rooted to the spot, his hand still resting on his closed locker, her scent still lingering around him.

* * *

“Maria?” Phil asked quietly as Daisy napped on Maria after lunch the following weekend.

“Hmm?” she quietly hummed her response, turning to check that she hadn’t woken Daisy.

“I uh—” he hung his head. God, he felt stupid, and pathetic, and like a fumbling teenager, and he hated it because he’d never been this sad, even when he’d actually _been_ a teenager, “I need some advice.”

There it was. He’d asked for help. Dr. Johnson had often reminded him that he didn’t have to have all the answers – that he should feel free to ask for help.

Seeing the troubled look in his eyes, Maria nodded, slowly standing from her chair, careful not to wake Daisy. “I’ll be right back,” she smiled before carrying the sleeping girl to her room and settling her in her cot. Something told her Phil needed her undivided attention.

“What’s up?” she asked gently as she sat back down on the armchair and faced her friend as he stared at his hands, his elbows resting on his knees as he hung his head.

“It’s, uh—” he shook his head, still staring at his hands, “its May, I don’t—” taking a breath and turning back to Maria, he looked completely lost, “I don’t know what to do.”

“Ok,” Maria nodded, leaning forward in her own chair, “did something happen yesterday?” she asked, remembering that he’d been to the gym the previous day.

He shook his head, “no. She wasn’t there. She’s on holiday, back on Monday.” Maria nodded, silently encouraging him to continue. “I just, I’ve been thinking about what you said—” he trailed off. “About if something was going on?” he almost asked as if she might have forgotten the conversation.

“And is it?” she asked gently.

“I don’t know,” he answered honestly just as he had the last time they’d spoken, but this time he elaborated, “I—” he looked up at her again, and she could see fear in his eyes, “I _like_ her,” his voice was small, and lost, but at least he’d gotten _that_ far. “But things are weird,” he looked confused.

“Weird how?” Maria asked.

“I don’t know, it’s just—” he looked around as if trying to find the right words, “lately there have been these awkward—” he shook his head, not wanting to say the word.

Maria wasn’t going to let him chicken out now, “moments?” she supplied gently.

Phil hung his head with a nod.

“Awkward how?” Maria prompted.

“Just,” he looked up again, his eyes focused on the wall in front of him as he tried to find the words. “Everything will be going well, and then if we get, I don’t know— _close_ , I guess, it just gets awkward, silent and tense and, _uncomfortable_. She always leaves. I think I’m making her uncomfortable, but I don’t know how to—”

“Wait, when you say she _leaves_ ,” Maria interrupted, “what do you mean?”

Phil frowned – he didn’t understand the question. “She sort of just,” he looked to the wall again trying to remember if there was anything striking about her leaving other than the horrible feeling it left in the pit of his stomach, “crosses her arms and steps back. She doesn’t look at me though, I know she’s uncomfortable, I don’t want her to be—” he sounded so distressed, Maria cut him off again.

“Sort of how she stepped back when you introduced us at the gym?” Maria asked, fighting the smile that threatened to form – Phil was so oblivious sometimes.

“I—” he thought back  to that day, “yea,” he nodded, “exactly.”

And also how she’d stepped away from them outside the ER after driving Phil there, though Maria was sure Phil wouldn’t remember that. She’d thought she felt some tension when Phil had introduced them at the gym, and she now realized what it probably was.

“Phil,” Maria smiled now, gently touching his knee, “do you think maybe she’s thinking the exact same thing you are? That _she’s_ pushing the professional boundary between you? That she’s making _you_ uncomfortable?”

Phil’s expression made it clear that he definitely _hadn’t_ considered that. “But she’s not, she—”

“But does she know that?” Maria asked softly. “I could be completely off base here,” Maria was fairly certain she understood what was going on, but she didn’t actually _know_ May beyond what Phil had mentioned, so there was a good chance she was missing something, “but from what you’re telling me, there is tension between you two. You _like_ her,” she smiled as she emphasized the word just as he had, and he blushed a little, “but you introduced her to the woman who looks after your daughter and who met you at the hospital when Daisy was sick without elaborating who _I_ am—”

Phil looked up at her, realization dawning.

“I don’t know May, but if I were her, I’d be worried about it looking like I was making a move on a client, and worse, one who is already in a relationship.”

“But we’re not—” he started.

“God, no!” she interjected with a laugh which brought out a smile on his face, “but _she_ doesn’t know that. Look,” she continued after a beat, “I told you before: take your time. I get that this is a big step for you, and you need to do it for _you_ , when and if it feels right. But maybe just ask her out?” Maria suggested.

“I—” she could tell the idea scared him.

“I know Dr. Johnson’s encouraged you to think about putting yourself out there,” she was gentle as she spoke, her hand reassuring on his knee – she knew how much he struggled with the idea of dating for the first time since Audrey’s passing, “and I know it scares you, but maybe this is a good opportunity?”

“I don’t know, Maria, I—”

“You said it yourself, you _like_ her,” Maria smiled as his left hand clenched and unclenched into a fist where it rested on his knee – something he hadn’t been able to do before starting his sessions with May, “and from what I’ve seen, I’m fairly certain she’d say yes.”

When he remained silent, Maria squeezed his knee to get his attention. Her eyes on his, she smiled softly, “tell me this: if we were back at university and you’d just met May at a bar,” she smiled when he rolled his eyes – Phil Coulson had never been one for meeting girls in bars, “just indulge me,” she smiled, “if the last year hadn’t happened, if you were just a single guy meeting this woman in a bar, would you ask her out?”

She could see the answer in Phil’s eyes, but she could also see how terrified he was of that answer. She knew moving on would be difficult for him, but this was as far as he’d ever gotten since the accident and she was proud of him for even bringing the subject up.

“Again, there’s no pressure,” she reassured, “but maybe it’s something to think about?”

A noncommittal shrug accompanying his gentle half-smile, Phil nodded – definitely something to think about.

* * *

The three nights since his conversation with Maria had been essentially sleepless. He’d tossed and turned, gotten up to go to the toilet and paced the length of his apartment until he’d given up entirely and collapsed into his armchair with his head in his hands.

No matter what angle he looked at the situation from, one thought kept circling back whenever sleep almost claimed him: Audrey. He’d promised her forever, how could he move on? Maria would argue that he’d actually promised her ‘until death do us part,’ and she would have been right, but it didn’t make him feel any better. He knew it was ridiculous, but he felt like he was cheating on Audrey, felt like he shouldn’t even think of another woman, let alone want May this much.

It was at around 4 am on sleepless night number 3, staring down at his sleeping baby’s face, that he finally broke through that vicious cycle. He’d been pacing the corridor when he’d heard Daisy and went to check on her. She’d been asleep, just shifting in her cot, and she looked so peaceful that Phil just stood there for a moment, staring down at his daughter, seeing so much of her mother in her. And it was as he watched the soft rise and fall of her chest that he realized that, cliché as it might sound, this probably _was_ what Audrey would have wanted – not for him to move on and forget her, but for him to rebuild their family for himself _and_ for Daisy.

He stood there for a few minutes, a contented smile on his face for the first time in weeks, and he felt at peace. He didn’t know if he _would_ ask her out, but for the first time since he realized he had feelings for May, he felt like he _could_ , and it was like a weight was lifted off his chest.

* * *

Phil found himself pacing outside the gym before their next session. It had been over a week since he’d seen May, and now that she was back, there he was, pacing like an idiot instead of going in and starting the warm up he knew she’d expect him to.

Now that he’d accepted his feelings for her, he had no idea how to act. Should he just act normal? Not that he’d ever really acted _normal_ around her. Should he make a move? Pull back and observe how  _she_ behaved?

Should he stop overthinking things? _Probably_.

“Phil, hi!” her voice interrupted his thoughts and he practically jumped as he turned to her, his blue eyes crinkling against the sunlight as he took in the sight of her, ponytail swaying behind her, tanned skin giving away her week on the beach.

“Hi!” he smiled back as she reached him and he automatically fell into step with her as she entered the gym. “How—uh,” he stammered, _smooth, Phil_ , “how was your holiday?”

“Not bad,” she replied as they ascended the stairs, “sun, beach, cocktails. I was bored by day two.”

“Oh,” Phil stumbled over his thoughts trying to continue an intelligent conversation, “nice tan, though,” he offered feeling like a complete dork.

“Thanks,” she replied in a tone that _sounded_ like a smile as she rounded Nick’s desk and dropped her bag on the floor beneath it, “not much to do other than lounge in the sun.”

Phil tried valiantly not to picture her in a bikini, lying on a beach somewhere drinking a cocktail, he really did. But he failed.

“Where—” he cleared his throat in hopes that it would clear his mind, “where did you go?”

“Bahamas,” she replied as she dug her water bottle out of her bag and rounded the desk again to come to stand beside him, “you ready?” she nodded to the bag he still had slung over his shoulder.

“Oh,” he looked down at it like an idiot and then quickly turned to the lockers, “sorry, I’m  a bit slow this morning,” he wasn’t lying.

“You feeling ok?” May asked.

“Huh? Oh, yea,” he nodded at his locker as he stuffed his bag inside it, “didn’t get much sleep the last couple of nights is all.”

“Is, uh—” May hesitated, trying to remember, “your kid doing better?”

“Daisy, yea,” Phil’s smile was so genuine as he felt the relief of Daisy doing better wash over him all over again, “thanks again for the ride.”

“Not a problem,” she replied, and he noted that while her face remained neutral, she never quite met his eye. “Shall we?” she asked as she gestured to the treadmill he should have been on when she arrived.

She didn’t appear to be annoyed with him as he’d thought she was during their previous few sessions - she wasn’t crossing her arms or putting any unusual amount of distance between them. But when they chatted through his slow jog to warm up, it felt unnatural; when she handed him the weights for his bicep curls and her hand brushed his, she jerked away a little faster than strictly necessary, and when it came to their stretches, she showed him how to work through them himself without needing her to assist.

Something was definitely off, and the knot which had loosened in Phil’s stomach as he’d come to terms with his feelings for her was starting to tighten again.

“Do you,” she looked distracted as she looked towards the stairs, “do you mind if I meet you downstairs?” she asked as he worked through the last of his stretches.

“Uh, no, not at all—” he looked up at her from where he was lying on his back and frowned, watching her as she started to walk away. “Hey, uh—May?” he found himself calling after her.

She stopped just before reaching the stairs and stood there for a moment, her back still to him before turning back, “yea?”

He’d scrambled to his feet by now, a frown on his face as he approached her, “you ok?”

“Yea,” May replied a little too quickly for him to quite believe her.

“You sure?” he asked softly, genuinely worried – worried she _wasn’t_ ok; worried he was the reason.

“Yea,” she nodded with a nonchalant shrug, “just tired I guess.” 

Mentally shaking herself, May looked to his face for the first time that day, and their eyes met – and Phil felt the knot twist a little more.

They stood there in silence and, while it had happened before, now that he’d come to terms with his own feelings, he seemed to notice her for the first time. Her shoulders were tense, the muscles of her arm twitching as her hand clenched around the railing beside her, and her eyes, which he’d been staring into for a few seconds now, started to dart away from his – down, to the side, down again, up in what could almost be an exasperated eye roll.

If Maria had been there, she’d tell him it was his lips she’d inadvertently looked at; twice. But Maria wasn’t there, and Phil had already thought himself into a panic, worried that he’d done something to make her uncomfortable again.

In his attempt to make the situation better, Phil took a step into her personal space before he’d even realized what he was doing, and immediately she tensed, her arms starting to come up to cross between them.

“Um,” he started intelligently, knowing if he didn’t say something quick her next move would be to turn and leave. “I’m sorry,” he sighed, eyes falling towards the floor.

That seemed to confuse her, and she turned back to him just as she was about to turn away.

“For what?” she asked, and he could tell she really didn’t understand.

“Well, for,” he gestured lamely between them, “for making you feel uncomfortable, I really didn’t mean—”

“What?” she shook her head in genuine confusion, “No, Phil, you didn’t—” but he’d already set off rambling. 

“I really didn’t mean to, I just. You’re so—I tried to stop, to ignore it, but—anyway,” he shook his head, “it doesn’t matter. I’m really sorry for making you uncomfortable, I promise that was never my intention—”

“Phil!” she interrupted him, still completely lost but, he noticed, less guarded as her arms unfolded and one hand rose to his upper arm to get his attention, “what are you talking about?”

“You’re obviously uncomfortable around me, I thought I had it under control, but I obviously don’t, I promise I’ll—”

“Under control? Phil—” she shook her head, her hand coming to rest by her side again.

“My feelings,” he blurted, his heart hammering in his ears as he stood there, their eyes meeting again as his words sank in.

“Your—”

“This is your job and—God, I really didn’t want to be just another idiot with a crush, I know you get enough of that, but—”

“You’re not an idiot,” she cut him off softly, surprise in her voice. “ _I’m_ sorry,” she shook her head, and he was surprised to see what almost looked like an _actual_ smile grace her features, “ _I_ was trying to avoid making _you_ uncomfortable, I—”

“Me?!” Phil looked genuinely shocked, “I was never—”

“When Maria came in with you,” she explained softly, her eyes not quite meeting his, “you seemed uncomfortable with me there, I didn’t want to—”

“Oh,” he realized that Maria might just have been right. “I was,” at the change in her expression, he quickly added, “I didn’t want her to come, really.”

May merely frowned at him, her arms coming up to cross in front of her again - defensive.

“What?” Phil muttered as he watched her tense again. Oh! _Shit_! He’d made it sound like he was trying to hid her from Maria – who May thought he was _with_. “Oh, no! God, May, no! Maria’s a friend—my best friend. That’s it,” he was so focused on clearing that up that he missed the way her shoulders relaxed and her expression softened marginally, “I didn’t want her to come because I knew she’d see straight through me, I wasn’t ready for—”

“But she was at the hospital, with—” she paused, “uh, your daughter. I thought—”

“She watches Daisy for me,” Phil explained, his own posture relaxing as he allowed himself to smile, “she likes spending time with Daisy and it helps me be able get things done. She’s got Daisy right now so I can be _here_.”

“So you’re,” May hesitated a second, “divorced?”

Phil swallowed the lump that always formed in his throat and pressed on - _this is what she would have wanted_ , he reminded himself. “Widowed. Almost a year ago—”

“Phil, I’m so sorry,” May’s hand immediately came to rest on his upper arm.

His smile was sad, but genuine, “thanks, I—It’s ok, I mean—” he closed his eyes briefly, somethings were just really difficult to put in words, “it’s getting better.”

“I’m glad,” May smiled, an _actual_  smile that he couldn’t help match gracing her features.

“Listen, uh—” he was going to do this. He’d decided. He’d probably stumble through it, but he was going to ask May out. “I meant what I said earlier, I—” he paused again and his eyes did that thing where they darted everywhere but her face, “I do have, uh, _feelings_ , and, um—” he sighed, looking up at the ceiling in frustration, “I’m sorry, I kind of suck at this,” he smiled sheepishly, his hand rubbing the back of his neck, “do you maybe want to get, uh, I don’t know, maybe dinner? Or a drink—coffee?” he wasn’t quite sure how he managed to downgrade his offers in a single sentence, but there they were.

But May was still standing there, so it couldn’t all be bad.

“Dinner would be nice,” she smiled, and the knot in his stomach _finally_ released.

“Ok,” he nodded, a stupid smile on his face, “dinner. Ok.”

“Ok,” May agreed, her head tiliting to her left, still smiling.

“May!” Nick’s voice called from downstairs, and broke the moment.

Looking down at her watch, May swore under her breath, turning to Phil with an apologetic smile, “sorry, my next client is here.”

“No worries,” Phil smiled, “I’ll see you next time.”

May nodded, already starting to turn back to the stairs.

“Unless--” Phil called after her, making her stop on the first step, “I mean, for dinner—uh," he needed to work on not being such a rambling mess, "are you free Wednesday?”

“Only after seven,” she replied, slowly descending the stairs almost-sideways, still facing him, “I have back-to-back sessions all afternoon.”

“How about eight?” he asked, automatically starting to follow her down the stairs as if drawn to her.

“Eight’s good,” she smiled with a nod.

“I’ll text you the restaurant,” he smiled back as they came to the ground floor and she surveyed the reception area for her next client.

“I’ll see you then,” she said turning back to him with a quick smile as her 12 o’clock stood from the sofas to greet her.

“Yea,” Phil nodded as she walked away, “see you then.”

Well that had gone better than he’d expected.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phil and May go on a date. It's going great, but Phil is an awkward dork, what can I tell ya?

“The blue,” Maria had said with an amused eye roll as Phil had held up two shirts for her to choose from – one light blue, the other a dark forest green. Not that he wouldn’t look great in the dark, but the blue would bring out his eyes.

“But what if I spill some—” he looked down at the shirt, uncertain.

“Try to avoid that,” Maria said, her hand on his shoulder gently pushing him towards his room.

“It’s Italian, you know how I am with sauce,” he sounded defeated already, and Maria was having none of it.

“Yes, you are incapable of eating any kind of pasta with sauce without at least three stains on your shirt. I am aware. I taught you how to remove said stains in college. Get a steak. No sauce. Problem solved.”

She could tell he was nervous, and it was kind of adorable. Kind of like helping her little brother get ready for prom.

“Tie?” She heard him ask from his room as she checked on Daisy, fast asleep on the couch under a yellow blanket.

“No!” she called back.

“No?” he asked again, his head popping around the doorframe.

“You said she was coming from the gym, right?” Maria asked.

“Yea,” he nodded, stepping back into the living room, a dark blue tie hanging around his neck, his collar turned up, “she’s working until 7. We’re meeting at 8—"

“The restaurant you picked is nice, but not too fancy, and you don’t know if she’ll have time to do fancy before meeting you,” she pulled the tie from around his neck, placing it around her own as she fixed his collar. “It’s a first date, don’t panic, and no tie.”

Phil smiled with a nod, looking down to check the adjustments Maria had made to his shirt.

“Last question?” he asked looking back up to her, holding up his glasses, “glasses or contacts?”

“Glasses,” Maria answered straight away, “they look good and you’re less likely to end up with tired itchy eyes by the end of the night.”

“What would I do without you?” he asked seriously, putting the glasses on and relaxing for the first time since he’d started getting ready.

He hadn’t been on a date in almost 4 years – he was a nervous wreck.

“End up with a sauce-stained shirt, a tie in your soup and sore eyes,” Maria shrugged, the tie still around her neck as she reached for her  drink on the coffee table and took a sip.

“Maria?” his voice brought her attention back to him. “I’m scared,” he said in a small voice, almost a whisper.

Her heart breaking a little for her friend, Maria stepped forward and gave him a hug.

“I know,” she said as she gave his shoulders a squeeze, “but you _like_ May, remember?” she smiled as she stepped back. “And she said yes, so she _wants_ to be there.”

Phil nodded as if that had convinced him.

“And hey, for all you know, she’s just as nervous.”

“Have you _seen_ May?” he asked in an exhale as he, once again, reminded himself how out of his league May was.

“I have,” Maria nodded, “and I also heard you when you told me about the jerks at the gym harassing her all the time. There’s a good chance May doesn’t meet many nice, polite, considerate, single Dads who wait until they are in the privacy of their own home to drool over her,” she smirked as she teased him.

“Hey,” he raised his eyes back to hers in fake-indignation as she laughed. She wasn’t wrong.

“But honestly, Phil,” Maria reassured him again, “it will be _fine_. It’s just a date. Two people sharing a meal and talking. No pressure, remember?”

Again, he nodded, this time genuinely reassured.

“Now,” she smirked again, “put this back,” she handed him the tie, “and go put on some of that perfume that made all the PTA Moms sigh.” 

He pretended to glare at her, but nodded, and did as he was told.

* * *

Phil had been sitting at the reserved table for 20 minutes. It wasn’t that May was late, but he’d arrived stupidly early, and was now sitting there wishing he’d taken the waiter up on ordering a drink.

It was remarkable how easily he reverted into a fidgety mess. The fingers of his left hand kept twitching nervously where it rested by his plate, and his heart kept speeding up into his throat every time the door opened.

He was truly pathetic.

The restaurant was a family-run Italian bistro just off the main town square. In the winter, seating was limited to the interior with its wood-burning pizza oven, brick walls and wooden beams crossing the white ceiling. In the summer, however, extra seating was set up in an outdoor terrace overlooking the town square – where Phil now sat trying not to break a sweat.

It was a quiet restaurant, soft Italian songs filtering from the overhead speakers, the smell of freshly baked pizza filling the space, and the soft murmured sounds of different conversations giving it a warm, cozy feeling.

He’d chosen it mainly for its location, though. It was within walking distance of both his apartment – meaning he wouldn’t need to take a bus or get a ride – and of the gym, hopefully making life easier for May.

 _May_.

Phil felt his breath escape his lungs as the door opened and she stepped through. _God_ , he was out of his league.

If May was gorgeous in workout clothes and a ponytail, he didn’t have a word for what she was in a dress and heels.

As she looked around and was greeted by a waiter, Phil sat there, mesmerized. She wore a burgundy dress, so smooth it looked like velvet. It hugged every curve, the v-neck and mid-thigh hem revealed more than he was sure he could handle, and the way her taut thighs looked as the waiter led her to their table made his stomach flip up into his chest - and he didn't think that was even anatomically possible.

It took him a second too long to stand, and as he did, his thigh bumped the table, the glasses clinking as he quickly lay his hands on the white table cloth to steady it. _Graceful_.

* * *

May bit back a fond smile as Phil, who’d been sitting at their table, almost sent the glasses flying off their table in his haste to stand as she approached.

She was used to men ogling her; was used to that discomfort in the pit of her stomach as idiot, after jerk, after asshole eyed her up and down with disgusting lascivious smirks on their faces. She was used to walking past, head held high; to verbally shutting them down when their creepy smirks turned to lewd comments; and to physically putting them down when they assumed that their attraction to her gave them a right to touch.

She _hated_ it; but she was used to it.

But while she was perfectly aware that Phil had been staring none-too-subtilty at her as she approached, his gaze was not lustful, there was none of the nauseating over-confidence of most men she encountered, and his clumsiness as he tried to maintain some semblance of cool was frankly adorable.

Phil Coulson was definitely _different_.

* * *

“H- Hi,” he stammered a little as she came to stand in front of him, her black heels making her stand almost at eye-level with him, as opposed to the several inches shorter she usually was.

“Hey,” she smiled at him, her black hair cascading over her shoulders.

“Uh—” he started intelligently as the waiter told them he’d be back with the menus, eyed the length of May's exposed legs, and walked back into the main restaurant. Kicking himself into gear, Phil quickly rounded the table, holding the chair out for May, pushing it in gently as she took the seat, smiling at him in thanks.

“Thank you,” she looked down towards her lap, again hiding a smile at the adorable fumbling mess of a man before her.

“You look—” he paused, the words not quite forming as he took his own seat, his eyes falling on her face as he pulled his chair forward, “beautiful.” It was almost a breath, and she smiled gently, hoping the blush she felt wasn’t actually visible.

Melinda May had never been one to blush and gush over a man. Never. Yet there she was, biting back a smile as this dorky single dad stumbled over his words around her.

“Thanks,” she nodded, looking back up at him. “You don’t clean up too bad yourself,” she smiled as she nodded to his shirt, tucked neatly into pressed charcoal dress trousers. “I like the glasses.” 

“Oh,” she swore he was about to squirm in his seat as his left hand rose to push the glasses further up his nose, “thanks.”

“Look at that,” she commented with a proud nod at his hand as he lowered it back towards the table.

“Oh, yea,” he nodded as he held it midway down, eyeing it as he flexed and extended his fingers. “All you,” he beamed.

“No,” she countered, as the waiter filled their glasses with water, “all _you_.”

* * *

“You’re a teacher?” May asked as she took a sip of the Chardonnay they’d settled on as they waited for her pasta and his chicken Milanese – no sauce, just like Maria had advised.

“History,” Phil nodded taking a sip of his own. “I’ve been off for,” he thought about it, “almost a year, really.”

“Because of the hand?” May asked gently, her eyes falling to it where it rested beside his plate – she noted the fading tan-line of a wedding ring and felt her heart break for him a little. He was such a good man, she hated that he’d been through that kind of pain.

Phil nodded, “and the other stuff, uh—”

“It’s ok,” she smiled reassuringly, “you don’t have to—”

“No,” Phil smiled with a nod, “it’s ok. I— If it had just been the hand, I could probably have gone back to work – don’t really need a left hand to teach middle school History,” he shrugged, “but after the accident, I went through several surgeries. Spleen removed on the day,” he gestured to his left side, “then one to fix the fractures,” he rotated his left wrist as he remembered how difficult that had been to do to begin with, “and then a few more to try to fix the nerves,” he concluded as he flexed the fingers as he’d done earlier, something he’d thought he would never do again.

“I’m so sorry, Phil,” May leant forward a little, her hand moving a little closer to his on the table, not quite touching. And again, there was no pity in her tone – just understanding, and a compassion that warmed him.

Nodding, Phil took another sip of wine.

“Was—” May paused, not sure if she should ask, but Phil seemed to be a step ahead of her.

“Yea,” he nodded sadly, “Audrey died in the accident.” It was clear that Audrey was his wife.

“And your daughter?” May asked gently.

“Thankfully, she wasn’t in the car,” Phil smiled, momentarily looking unfocused as he thought of his daughter, not noticing when May briefly let her eyes fall to the table. “Maria had her that night. Audrey had been promoted to first chair – she was a cellist,” he added with a smile, “it was her first concert as first chair. Drunk driver hit us on the way home.”

“I’m glad she’s ok,” May spoke softly, and he found himself reaching across the table to squeeze her hand.

“Thanks,” he nodded.

After a pause, he smiled and shifted gears. “What about you, May—”

“Melinda,” she cut in.

“Melinda,” he nodded with a widening smile, “I like that. I hadn’t even realized May wasn’t your first name.”

“I usually go by May. Air Force habits die hard,” Melinda smiled with a shrug.

“What was your rank?” he asked as their plates were set in front of them.

“First Lieutenant,” she replied as she picked up her knife and fork, eyes on her plate rather than him.

Phil nodded. His knowledge of History gave him some understanding of military ranks, even if the finer details escaped him.

“You didn’t want a career?” Phil asked as he cut some of his chicken.

May’s face was almost expressionless again, and Phil got the impression this was not something she was comfortable discussing. “At one point I did. But after a while, I just wanted a normal life—”

She trailed off and he didn’t push.

“Fair enough,” he smiled around a bite of his dinner. “Good thing too,” he nodded to his left hand as it held his knife in a firmer grip than he’d had in months, “wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t.” 

“Here holding a knife, or here having dinner?” May asked with an almost-smirk.

Smirking back, Phil chuckled, “both.”

* * *

The rest of their meal continued in the same way, and they both felt more comfortable than they had in a long time. When they stood from the table after desert and a glass of whiskey, Melinda felt her breath hitch at the jolt of electricity she felt as Phil’s hand brushed against her lower back when he gestured for her to walk ahead of him. She didn’t know if it was the wine and whiskey they’d shared, or if it was the fact that she genuinely liked this guy, but she felt warm and content – and she hadn’t felt that in a long time.

“Have a good evening,” the waiter nodded at them, his eyes travelling the length of Melinda’s body as he did.

May almost laughed when Phil stepped slightly between the two, “thank you,” he nodded pleasantly at the man, his eyes everything but as her hand rested on his forearm and gently tugged him towards the exit.

“I told you—”

“You’re used to the jerks, I know,” Phil nodded sheepishly, his right hand brushing the back of his neck as they stood facing each other on the pavement outside the restaurant. “But I’m not,” he shrugged.

“Just ignore it, he doesn’t get to make you feel angry. We’re having a good time,” she smiled.

“We are,” he nodded, suddenly realizing how close they were standing to each other, his eyes involuntarily following the line of her neck down to the v-neck of her dress and the curves he’d been distracted by since the first time they’d trained together.

May actually laughed – something he’d never heard her do before – and his eyes shot up to her face in confusion.

“The jerks can’t look, but cute middle school teachers can?” she grinned at him, and almost laughed at his panicked look. 

“I was trying _really_ hard not to! I—" She couldn’t even tell if it was the whiskey or if he really was just that much of a rambling dork.

“It’s ok,” she chuckled, her hand coming to rest on his upper arm to stop his panic.

“No,” he shook his head, “I was  _really_ trying not to be that guy!” he sounded disappointed in himself and she found him ridiculously adorable, “but you’re just so—” he sighed and didn’t even try to pretend his eyes weren’t moving of their own accord back to the figure-hugging dress. “—gorgeous,” he breathed.

“Like I said,” her hand travelled up his arm and tweaked his collar, “you’re not too bad yourself.” Phil smiled shily at her, and she let her hand drop back to her side. When it was clear he wasn’t going to take the opportunity so obviously hanging between them, May took a small step back, “you going to walk me to my car?” she asked.

“Uh—” Phil’s brain had shorted again, and as always, he recovered intelligently, “sure,” he nodded and followed her as she turned towards the cross-walk that would take them back toward the gym.

They walked in comfortable silence, Phil’s hand occasionally brushing hers before he pulled it away, almost as if chastising himself. She couldn’t quite figure him out.

Coming to a halt at the driver’s door to her Wrangler, Phil couldn’t decide what to do. He wanted to kiss her. _God_ , he wanted to kiss her. But he was also a gentleman, and he already felt like an idiot for being caught staring at her, and he _liked_ her, _and_ he didn’t want her to think he was just interested in her physically. He was overthinking again, and would have continued to do so had her voice not broken through his rambling thoughts.

“Good night, then,” she nodded with a small smile.

“Good night,” he smiled in response, his left hand fidgeting just out of sight. He stood rooted to the spot, but in his mind he was swaying between taking a step forward or walking away. He could hug her, but he could already hear Maria berating him for that; he could kiss her cheek, but didn’t know if he had the strength to get that close to her. He was a mess and he knew it.

“Right,” she nodded as he continued to stand there, “I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

“Uh—” _Shit_. He was still frozen and she was leaving. _Shit_. “yea,” he nodded with a smile as his mind screamed at him, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

‘ _Idiot. Stupid. Fucking stupid idiot!_ ’ He heard Hunter’s voice ring in his mind as she drove off, and he couldn’t even blame the voice. He _was_ an idiot. And he’d blown it.

 _Shit_.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phil is panicking, May is confused and Maria helps. Again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so, so sorry it's taken so long to update, guys!
> 
> I just wanted to say a massive thank you to the Anon(s) over on Tumblr who has/have kept encouraging me with their love for this story! I don't know if you're one person or several different people, but either way, I really appreciate the love and encouragement! This chapter is for you!

When Phil got home, after a longer-than-strictly-necessary walk to clear his head, he found Daisy tucked into her cot and Maria fast asleep on his sofa. Not having the heart to wake his friend – or the strength to hear her berate him for the same things he’d been kicking himself about since leaving May – Phil grabbed the throw blanket from the armchair, unfolded it over Maria and left her to sleep.

He was _such_ an idiot.

Sighing to himself, Phil buried his face in his hands as he took a seat on the edge of his bed. Maria was going to want details in the morning – and she was going to have a lot to say about the lack of ‘details’ he had for her – and once that was over, he had a session scheduled with May before lunch.

_Shit_.

Leaning back with a groan, his hands still covering his face, Phil collapsed on his bed and fell asleep still in his clothes and glasses.

* * *

“I was going to ask how last night went,” Maria spoke from where she leaned against his kitchen counter, cereal bowl in one hand and spoon in the other, “but I don’t think I have to.”

Phil didn’t even try to argue. He was still in his clothes from the night before, having fallen asleep over the covers on his bed, and his glasses had left a rather impressive dent on his cheek as he slept.

He looked a mess. He _was_ a mess.

“What happened?” Maria asked, putting the cereal bowl down and bringing Daisy’s baby monitor with her to the table where Phil had just dropped into a seat, a hand brushing through his hair as if that would fix anything.

“Nothing,” he replied with a shrug.

“Phil—“ Maria was not convinced.

“No,” he continued, “nothing happened. That’s just it. I blew it.”

“Ok,” Maria shook her head as if to make sense of what her friend was saying, “if nothing happened, _how_ did you blow it?” 

“We had a great time,” he shrugged, his palms turned upwards as he continued to mentally kick himself. “Dinner was great, we had desert, and drinks—“ he sighed, “it went _great_.”

“But--?”

“I was an idiot, she probably thinks I just wanted her physically, and she left.”

“Wait—wait,” Maria held up her hand, “that makes no sense. What _exactly_ happened?”

Sighing again, Phil turned towards her, his elbows resting on the glass table, “the waiter was checking her out, and I got protective again—she’d told me she didn’t need me standing up for her, but I _hate_ the way he was looking at her and—“ he let his head fall to the table, his words muffled against the surface as he continued, “then I did the same thing.”

“You checked her out?” Maria asked for clarification, not clear on why that was such a bad thing.

Raising his head at her relaxed tone, Phil looked indignant, “I was no different to him, or those guys at the gym. I—“ he shook his head, “I didn’t want her to think all I wanted was to get her in bed!”

“Ok,” Maria held her hands up as if to stop his train of thought, “did she say something?”

Phil shook his head, “she said she didn’t mind, said I didn’t look too bad myself,” he hung his head again, “but then she asked me to walk her to her car, and I just—“

“So you think she wanted the date to end?”

“I don’t know!” he looked lost again, and Maria wished she understood what was worrying him so she could help. But she didn’t.

“She asked you to walk her to her car, Phil,” Maria explained, “I wouldn’t ask a guy to do that if I wanted to just leave—“ When Phil didn’t say anything else, Maria added, “what happened then? Did she just get in the car and go?”

“No!” Phil looked distressed, “we stood there, and I thought maybe she wanted more, but then I’d already been an idiot, and I didn’t want to give her the wrong impression so—“

“You fumbled,” Maria nodded to herself – mystery solved.

“I blew it,” he hung his head again, looking defeated.

“Did you want to kiss her?” Maria asked gently, her hand on his arm prompting him to raise his eyes back to hers.

“Yes,” he said with a grimace, as if the very fact were distressing.

“But you didn’t?”

“I didn’t want her to think that was all I wanted!” he explained again.

“Ok,” Maria nodded slowly, mentally trying to unpack how to help her friend.

After a beat, her attention was drawn back to Coulson as he cursed under his breath, “ _shit_!”

“Phil?”

“I have _session_ today,” he curled his hand into a fist then released it.

“Ok,” Maria smiled, relaxing a little.

“Ok?” Phil asked confused. “She probable doesn’t even want to see me, I—“

“Phil,” Maria interrupted, “Phil! Listen, from what you’re telling me, you did _nothing_ wrong last night. Except maybe letting her go without kissing her, but we can discuss that later,” she gave him a mock-disapproving look, “if she wanted the date to end, she would have just left. She didn’t. Don’t you think there’s a good chance you’ve just built this up in your head? Made it worse than it actually was?”

Phil was silent a moment. He acknowledged Maria’s point – he could overthink better than most, and his tendency to assume the worst when he thought he’d screwed up was legendary. “But what if I haven’t?”

Maria sighed, “if you haven’t, and she genuinely wants nothing to do with you, then I guess you’ll find out.” When he looked scared, she leant forward, squeezing his forearm again, “but from what you’re telling me, I don’t think she will. You said she didn’t mind you checking her out – and honestly, you’re only human and May is a gorgeous woman. You were on a date. I know you were trying to be a gentleman, but you did _nothing_ wrong, Phil.”

“I _wanted_ to kiss her,” he said in a small voice after a beat, recalling how much he’d wanted to just lean in and kiss her as they stood by her car.

“I know,” Maria replied softly. “Next time.”

Phil shook his head, convinced there wouldn’t be a next time.

“Phil,” Maria drew his attention back to her. “Just go in today. See how things are, how you feel. And _talk_ to her.”

Phil wasn’t sure he could do any of those things, but he trusted Maria, and if there was one thing Bobbi, Dr. Johnson and Maria had taught him over the past year, it was that sitting at home and shutting out things he didn’t know how to deal with was stupid at best, and unhealthy at worst.

If all else failed, he guessed he could always join a different gym.

* * *

“Coulson,” Nick nodded at him as he entered the gym, his prosthetic eye not moving as he did.

“Morning, Nick,” Coulson nodded back, turning towards the lockers.

“May asked that you start the warm up without her,” Nick called after him as Phil opened the locker and stated getting ready.

“Uh—“ Phil closed his eyes briefly as he looked into his locker, thankful that Nick couldn’t see him with his back turned, “ok, no problem.”

“She’s just running a few minutes late with a new client.”

Turning back to Nick with what he hoped was a smile that didn’t give away his nerves, Phil nodded, “sure, I’ll be over on the treadmill.”

* * *

“Sorry, I’m late,” May’s voice pulled him out of another vicious circle of seemingly endless overthinking 5 minutes later.

“Uh—“ another intelligent contribution, _well done, Phil_. “No problem,” he nodded, still jogging – perhaps a little faster than strictly necessary for a warm up.

Reaching over, May slowed the treadmill down, “you’re working up quite a sweat there, we haven’t even started yet.”

Two things crossed Phil’s mind at that. First, her words were oddly ironic considering the panic he’d worked himself into before they’d even had a chance to talk. Second, he would normally reply with what Maria would call a ‘Dad Joke’ – probably something along the lines of ‘I don’t sweat, I glisten’ – but he just couldn’t today.

May wasn’t stupid – far from it in fact – she’d been on enough dates, with enough guys, to know Phil had dropped the ball last night. She knew enough about him to know he prided himself on being a gentleman, knew he’d been upset at being caught checking her out, and was fairly certain that had been part of the reason why he’d frozen.

Well, either that, or he just wasn’t as interested as she’d thought.

Either way, she wasn’t sure how to proceed. Phil was different to any other guy she’d been with before. Normally, she’d have made a move herself – if he wanted her, great, if he didn’t then at least that’d be clear. But Phil was different – he obviously wanted to do things right, and he was obviously still working his way back from the loss of his wife. She didn’t want to pressure him, and she didn’t want to do anything that would scare him off – because pathetic as it sounded to her, she didn’t want to lose her chance with him.

“Let’s just get started, ok?” she asked as he slowed down and tried to catch his breath.

Nodding, Phil ran his towel through his hair, grabbed his water bottle and followed after her.

The tension between them today was different. Previously, it had been charged: an unspoken attraction sizzling between them, a push and pull as they danced around the things they were pretending they didn’t feel. Today, however, the tension – like them – seemed to skirt around the very obvious elephant in the room: their date.

They worked well together – they always did. Phil followed her instructions, and threw himself into his workout, and May did her best to give him space as he continued to avoid meeting her eyes. But the tension was still there, and the longer it lasted, the more awkward the silences got, the quicker they withdrew their hands when they touched over a dumbbell, and the more exasperated they both became.

“Phil,” May finally gave in, drawing his attention to her as they reached the first floor landing and found that they were the only ones there.

Stopping on his way to the mats, Phil turned to face her.

“I wasn’t going to say anything—“ she started. She knew pushing him could be a mistake, but she’d had a great time the previous night, and hated the awkwardness between them, “but is everything ok?”

Sighing, Phil hung his head, coming to stand in front of her.

“I’m sorry,” he shook his head, berating himself for screwing up last night and for making her uncomfortable now.

“I just—I thought we had a good time—“

“I’m really sorry,” he held his hand out, palm up, “I know I screwed up. It was a mistake, I—“

May took a step back, then, and Phil froze. 

“What?” he asked, suddenly confused as she crossed her arms and her shoulders tensed. They stared at each other for a moment, May’s lack of expression making his insides twist.

“It’s ok,” she took a breath and held her hands up, “we can’t just pretend it didn’t happen.”

“Pretend—“ Phil started, still confused, but was cut off as they heard voices ascending the stairs. 

“We don’t need to discuss it—“

“No, I—“ Phil looked up to see both Pullups _and_ Spray Tan about to reach the landing, and without thinking, reached forward, pulling May with him into the changing room beside them.

* * *

“Phil, what—“ May asked as the door to the changing room closed behind them and her eyes tried to adjust to the darkness of the room – normally the lights would turn on automatically, but the bulb was out, and no one had gotten around to changing it yet. The only light filtering into the room streamed in through the grates of the vent on the far wall.

“I’m sorry,” he said again, and May wasn’t sure if he was apologizing for last night, for telling her their date was a mistake, or for pushing her into the changing room. Either way, a part of her was a little impressed that Phil Coulson had finally made some kind of move – even if it landed them and their awkwardness in a dark confined space.

“You said that already,” she said, her voice smaller than she’d hoped.

“No I mean—“ he shook his head, and looked up toward the barely-visible ceiling, exasperated with himself.

“Listen, Phil,” May took a step forward. She liked this guy, and she’d hoped they might have something, but she wasn’t interested in a long, drawn-out ‘I’m sorry this was a mistake’ speech. “You said it already, the date was a mistake—“ she heard, more than saw, him freeze at that, “so let’s just move on, ok?” 

“I didn’t say—“ he muttered, almost as if he were trying to recall if he _had_ actually said that. He was fairly certain he hadn’t.

Sighing, May made to walk back towards the door, and Phil suddenly found himself in her way – he knew it was probably a dangerous move, knew she could probably get past him in  a multitude of painful ways, but he couldn’t let her go thinking he’d said _that_.

“Not the date!” he exclaimed as he held his hands out to stop her. “God, May— _Melinda_ ,” he emphasized her name, and was relieved to see her outline in the dark relax and stop moving, “ _not_ the date.” He took a breath as they stood there in silence.

May watched as Phil’s outline hung his head, his hand coming to brush the back of his neck as he started speaking again, “I made a mistake _last night_ ,” he clarified. “I shouldn’t have gotten defensive with that waiter and then acted the same way, I—“

“ _Phil_ ,” May’s voice sounded somewhere between exasperated and amused, “I _told_ you, I didn’t mind that—“

“I know,” Phil conceded, “but I didn’t—I _don’t_ want you to think I’m only interested in you because you’re—“ he trailed off, and she saw the outline of his hands moving as if gesturing to her form, “— _beautiful_ ,” the word escaped him in a breath.

May allowed herself to smile in the dark – he was exasperating, but he was a very sweet dork.

“So I didn’t kiss you—“ he sounded defeated now, “and then you left, and I— I know I blew it, and I’m so sorry.”

“Phil, hey,” he felt her hand on his upper arm before he realized her outline had moved closer in the dark. “You didn’t blow it,” her voice was gentle and a little amused, “and you don’t need to apologize, ok?”

“But—“ Phil tried to cut in, but May was having none of it.

“I told you, I’m used to guys like that waiter, or the two jerk offs outside,” her head nodded towards the door, “but you’re not them.”

He moved as if to speak again, but she cut him off once more.

“You’re not—“ her hand was still on his upper arm, and it rubbed up and down gently as if to soothe him and reassure him that what she was saying was true. “I _know_ you like how I look,” again he could hear amusement in her voice, “I like how _you_ look,” he saw her outline shrug. “Should I feel bad that I loved how you looked in those dress trousers yesterday?”

Phil’s throat had gone dry, “n-no—“ that came out huskier than he’d intended.

“Then you don’t need to feel bad that you were attracted to me in that dress.”

“But I don’t _just_ —“

“I _know_ , Phil,” she drew the word out, “I also went out with you because I like _you_ , not just how you look.”

Phil's breath hitched at that. “I like you too—“ his voice was small, and a little pathetic, but, as with most things to do with Phillip Coulson, she found it adorable.

“Good,” he could hear a smile in her voice.

They stood there in silence for a moment before he found his voice again, “I _did_ want to kiss you—“ he trailed off, wanting that to be clear.

“Good,” he could still hear the smile in her voice, but now there was something more, too.

“I uh—“ Phil closed his eyes, cursing himself for not being braver or smoother, “I _still_ want to kiss you,” he said softly, his heart hammering somewhere between his ears.

“Good,” this time the smile in her voice was replaced by a huskiness he’d never heard from her, the sound closer than it’d been before as he felt more than saw her step closer.

“M—Melinda,” he breathed as he tentatively reached a hand out and it came into contact with her hip.

“Mmh?” was her hummed response as the fingers of his hand spread over her legging-covered hip, drawing her fractionally closer.

“Would—“ his throat was dry, and his voice raspy, he tried to clear it, “can I—“

“Yes—“ she breathed, their breaths mixing in the shrinking space between them, his left hand – the one she’d helped him regain control of – rising to her cheek, brushing her hair from her face as he pressed his lips to hers.

Much like his fumbling speech before it, the kiss wasn’t perfect: his nose bumped hers as he turned his head, his hand found its way into her hair as she went to reach for his face, their arms in each other’s way, they stumbled slightly as one pushed and the other pulled. But between breaths, and chuckles, and a few whispered ‘let me justs’ and ‘sorrys’, they found a rhythm.

As he turned his head – this time without collision – she parted her lips and his bottom lip came to rest between hers, a moan leaving him as he felt her tongue brush it gently and his back hit the wall. The hand on the small of her back drew her closer, their bodies pressed together as he parted his own lips, their tongues finally meeting as they both groaned into the kiss.

As May drew back with a soft hum and began to trail kisses along his jaw, Phil became acutely aware of how close she was, of the way she made him shiver as she drew closer to his ear, and, especially, of the fact that they were currently making out in an unlocked changing room with a broken light, at the gym, in broad daylight.

They should stop.

“M—“ Phil tried to speak, “Melinda—“ he breathed as he turned to plant a kiss just beneath her own ear, diverting her lips from their path, “we should really—“

“I know,” she breathed as she pulled back from him, her hands still on his chest. “We should stop.”

“I don’t—“ he stumbled over his words again as she stepped back a little.

Smoothing her hands down his chest, May turned to his dark outline, and, her eyes a little more accustomed to the dark now, she could just make out his face against the wall behind him. “Hey,” she soothed, “I know. I don’t want to either, but should.”

“I’m sorry about last night,” he sighed, his fingers finding hers as her hands came to rest at her sides.

“It’s ok,” he could hear the smile in her voice and wished he could see her properly, “I think we’re past that now, don’t you?”

Chuckling, Phil was actually glad it was dark as he felt himself blush, “yea.”

“Come on, then,” she tugged at his hand as she started moving towards the door, “you still have stretches to work through, and I’m probably late for my next client.”

“What about the—“ Phil began, remembering the two idiots he’d pushed them into the changing room to escape.

“Honestly?” May asked squeezing his hand before letting go as she reached the door, “I don’t really care what they think. Do you?”

Taking a deep breath, Phil shook his head in the dark, following as she opened the door and stepped back into the gym.

He was dating Melinda May, and Pullups and Spray Tan looked about as shocked as he felt.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed that!   
> Please let me know what you thought! Encouragement feeds my muse.


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